


Long Suffering Boyfriend

by bluesaliva



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV First Person, bc i don't know his name, from the mysterious man's pov, idk what else to tag this is ridiculous, so putting it in first person made it so i didn't have to say/come up with a name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:52:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesaliva/pseuds/bluesaliva
Summary: Chris is a handful - yes - but he's my handful. So I suppose I can tolerate it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of this artwork i saw of chris x this guy on tumblr: http://no2ng.tumblr.com/post/154486149918/christophe-and-his-long-suffering-boyfriend  
> and idk its 2am i can't sleep so i decided to write this
> 
> this is both self indulgent and trash and idk man  
> this is so ridiculous i don't even know what i'm doing its not even that good lol

I knew - I knew - that whenever it was a call from Chris, that I was not supposed to take it as seriously as the tone of his voice demanded. 

 

I’d been working with him for many, many years now (well, only 3 but that was still many years as far as I was concerned it was the most steady job I’d ever had if I was honest with myself, sad as that may be), and I knew how he was. Aside from the fact that he could just be a legitimate drama queen whenever he saw fit, he also had this habit of… Liking to see me riled up. He’d winked at me the first time he told me that and, red faced, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. Thank god he saved me from the embarrassment by just laughing aloud and telling me my face looked priceless.

 

But when I woke up, at almost 4:30AM, to an empty room with the sheets of Chris’s bed tossed off in complete disarray and the door still somewhat ajar (god, I could’ve been killed while he was gone - that was a comforting thought), I knew that something was either horribly wrong and he’d gotten kidnapped in the middle of the night and was being held for ransom… Or he was just being himself. The offending vibrating of my phone that’d roused me from my slumber in the first place lay on the nightstand beside my bed, and without much preamble, I began to rub the sleep from my eyes, clicked “accept” and was greeted to the sound of Chris’s pleasant baritone sounding… Unusually serious and stern for 4:30 in the morning.

 

“Chris?” I mumbled sleepily. “Where are you? It’s 4am?”  
“Honey, come to the pool right now. I need your help!” His sharp tone of voice startled me, and the line suddenly went dead. You know it’s probably not that serious. I told myself as I quickly tumbled out of bed - never mind grabbing shoes - and tore out of the room towards the stairs. Not the elevator, it was too slow, and for all I knew he could be dying.

 

To say that I was one who got easily worked up was an understatement. My mind seemed to have a preoccupation with imagining the worst, most ridiculous and unlikely scenario that it could possibly concoct. In fact, as I was closing in on the top level of the hotel, the idea of alien abduction was perhaps the most normal thought that passed through my mind.

 

I burst through the glass doors that lead to the deck, instantly shocked to the core by how legitimately cold it was out there, not to mention the wet, tiled floor was practically ice under my bare toes. “C-Chris!” I yelled. I was probably waking people up. I wasn’t sure how much I cared. “Are you okay?!” I called again, forcing myself to walk forward until the outdoor pool was in my sight. “Are you hurt?!” I stopped when I saw the pool completely, against the dark backdrop of the Barcelona night sky.

 

No, of course he wasn’t.

 

In fact, he seemed pretty leisurely. He and that famous skater now coach, Victor Nikiforov (a man that Chris told me more than once was a good friend of his, yet I don’t think I ever formally met him - not that I needed to or anything!) were - for some bizarre reason - sitting on the edge of the pool with their long legs dangling in the lukewarm water. “Hi, Chris’s boyfriend!” Victor waved enthusiastically and a bright red blush burned my cheeks despite how cold I was. Chris winked at me. “Hey honey~ good timing! Can you take a picture for us?”  
“You woke me up for this?” I sighed dramatically, and Victor passed me his phone. His case seemed to be one of his own outfits that he wore on the Grand Prix circuit last year. “You two are terrible… It’s freezing you know…” I opened the camera app and steadied my shaking hands as much as I could. Victor’s gaze dropped to my wriggling toes and a soft, pouty frown pulled over his face. I supposed it was a sympathetic look. 

 

“Oh dear you’re barefoot!” That I am. Chris however, showed no concern, and instead winked at me. 

 

“Don’t worry honey, I’ll warm you up thoroughly when we get back to the room.” I flushed even redder, mumbling for them to pose or something so that I could take the picture. An hour or so later, Chris returned to our room from the eighth floor where Victor and his fiancee were staying, fixing me with that predatory look of his that sent uncontrollable shivers down my spine.

 

His coach reprimanded us for being late to practice a few hours later, but even I’ll admit my head was still a little… Out of it.

 

\--

 

“You always come too early.” Those were the first words out of Chris’s mouth when I arrived at his door to pick him up to take him to the airport. We were to meet his coach there, and I really wanted to try and stay on schedule, since my relationship with the man was always up and down. I was positive his coach didn’t hate me as a person… But I think he was more annoyed at the relationship between his charge and I. Honestly, if you would’ve told the me of two years ago that I would be dating this handful of a man, I would’ve laughed at you.

 

“I hope that’s not a habit that carries on to… other activities.” He winked - as though he were making some kind of subtle innuendo when in reality, I’m sure a particularly worldly 13 year old would’ve gotten his reference. That didn’t stop my cheeks from coloring a ruddy red, the blush staining my ears and running down the back of my neck. One of the worst things about being pale is that redness showed up on my skin easily. Chris seemed to like that trait about me quite a bit.

 

“I will not.” I was proud of myself for not stammering. Cat still in hand, Chris smirked lazily, sauntering closer to me. “You’re terrible.” I breathed out and he only smirked wider. There was something too… Attractive about his cheshire grin. “But you love me~” His voice was playful and he leant forward to press a soft, teasing kiss against my jaw, making my knees feel weak.

 

“A-anyway, you look good in those glasses.” I found myself saying - when really I should’ve been telling him that we needed to leave soon. His coach, and the plane, would wait for no one. His smirk was replaced with a contemplative look… A look much softer than what I was used to seeing on him. “Yeah?” He asked softly. We were practically breathing the same air now, hid cool minty breath mingling with my own. Must’ve just brushed his teeth… I mused. “Y-Yeah…” A sudden grin came to his face. He looped his long fingers through the knot of my tie, distinctly pulling down and loosening it - making a protest want to bubble and rise from somewhere inside of me. More of me was too lost in his eyes to voice it. 

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll wear them when I give you a BJ before we go.” I sputtered. “C-C-Chris!” I stammered. He let his cat free from his arms and dragged me by the tie after him towards the bedroom. “W-We have a plane to catch! We don’t have time for this!” This made him pause - thankfully - and I opened my mouth to spout more protests, but was cut off by a deep kiss. I whimpered into open air when he finally pulled away, and he leaned in again to drag my bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrow lifted in amusement. 

 

“There’s always time for a quickie, honey.”


End file.
